


Seeing Red

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, First Kiss, First Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing what a single dream can set in motion...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At times, Red had floated in and out of Elizabeth Keen's dreams, but not like this. Never like this.

Tonight, Liz woke up in a sweat. Bedsheets clung to her hot body and her chest heaved in cool air.

Her mind spun as she replayed the rather satisfying dream that just ended.

Snippets of the dream flashed through her mind. 

It involved her and Red. Her hands on Red…Red kneeling between her spread legs…her lips on Red's erection…her body rocking beneath Red's motions.

She swallowed, but her mouth was so dry that her throat clung to itself. She had always seen him as an ally, sure, she felt that he was more important than a mere friend…but this? 

A pang of guilt ripped through her at the realization that she missed the dream. She wanted to go back to being beneath Red, instead of alone in her empty room. 

It scared her to realize just how much she relished her nocturnal brush with the impossible. Her profiling mind sought to analyze everything about the situation, but she wanted to push thought aside and focus on how good it felt to orgasm in her sleep. Her sex still throbbed and the space between her legs was impossibly wet. So much so that she rose to change her underwear. 

Once finished with the task, she plopped back into bed, face first. But was unable to reach the dream she had just left. In fact, she couldn't reach sleep at all.

++++

"What happened to you? You look like hell," Ressler said as Liz strode towards he and the director. "Gee, thanks," she retorted. 

Despite a mask of makeup, it must have still remained apparent that she had not gotten a lot of sleep last night. And nightmares of Tom had kept her up the two nights previous, so she wasn't looking too hot at this point. Still, her make up was flawless, her outfit was on point and as the day progressed, she never missed a beat. 

The only thing she wanted to avoid today was seeing Reddington, which is why she was not at all surprised that that is what the day had in store for her. He called around 5pm and told her to meet him at a cafe in the city. 

With a groan she told Ressler about the meet, stood, put on her jacket and walked out of the squad room. 

It was a twenty minute drive to the cafe, and it was the first opportunity she had all day to be engulfed in silence. It was so tempting to mentally return to last night's dream, but she fought the temptation. 

"Nothing's changed," she told her dashboard. "This is ridiculous." 

And it was. But she couldn't push past the newfound revelation that she had apparently harbored feelings for Red this entire time. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she always knew - but never allowed herself to explore the idea.

As she pulled up to the curb, she felt anxious, which was very atypical for her. Taking a breath, she undid her seatbelt and opened the door. Walking up to the establishment she could see Red's silhouette in the window, and her stomach flipped a few times. 

It was raining outside, so all of the patrons of the cafe were indoors. Red sad in a booth, his fedora dipping as he took a sip of coffee. But once the bell over the door chimed, he looked up and watched as Liz approached. 

"Red," she said, as she took a seat opposite him. "Lizzie," he returned, his voice sending vibrations through her body. 

God, how was she going to get through this? 

"This is a pretty casual meeting place, don't you think?" she questioned, looking around the room. 

"Eh…if anyone overhears us, I'll just shoot them," he jested. But Liz's eyes shot to his, full of actual concern. "Relax Agent Keen, it was a joke." 

Her lack of sleep and distracting dream had the agent tied up in a knot. She was tightly wound, and Red could surely sense it; like a shark smelling blood in the water. 

"What would you like sweetie?" an older woman asked, snapping Liz from her thoughts. The waitress had arrived and Liz was grateful that the cafe carried a rather strong blend of fresh Columbian coffee. She ordered a cup and tried her best to present a relaxed smile. But she could feel the weight of Red's eyes hanging on her. 

"I have a fresh criminal for you," he said, sliding a file across the table to Keen. "He may not appear to be much of a threat, but appearances are deceiving. Upon looking deeper, you'll find that our Mr. Machner is responsible for a whole host of atrocities against humanity."

She nodded at Red's words but avoided looking at him. Flipping the file open, she skimmed over it's contents. 

"Are you alright Lizzie?" Red asked out of the blue, his posture changing as he leaned forward on the diner table. 

"Yeah, fine," she lied.

"Sure about that?" he cocked his head to the side. "You look like you haven't slept in a week, you've been avoiding eye contact with me, and the entire time you've been here, you've been rubbing your scar."

Her bright blue eyes snapped up and met with his incredulous glare. Immediately she stopped rubbing her scar. 

The timber of his voice had changed, it was deeper, more gravelly. And it sent her mind straight to the images she imagined last night. 

He was intoxicating, and under such intense scrutiny from him, she was afraid that she would crack and crumble. 

"What's going on Lizzie?" he asked, a nearly imperceptible hint of concern in his words. 

"Nothing," she lied again.

Shit, this was too much. It had been six months since she had been with a man. She was overdue for a good ravishing and sitting here in front of Red, expertly dressed in his three-piece suit, his cologne wafting towards her, his piercing eyes boring holes into her - it was too much.

"Stop lying to me," he said, calling her bluff.

"I'm not lying when I tell you that I am fine," she said pointedly, with more confidence behind her words. "I appreciate the intel," she said as she put the folder into her bag. 

It was obvious that she was preparing to flee. She had only taken one sip of her coffee, but that didn't matter. 

"Why won't you let me in?" he asked with a level of vulnerability that startled her.

She huffed a laugh and shot back, "that's rich coming from you. You never let anyone in, and here you are, expecting it from others?" 

"Is that what you want Lizzie? For me to let you in?" his tongue darted out and wetted his lower lip.

The sight sent a pang of arousal straight to her abdomen. 

"I have to go," she lied once more.

"You didn't answer me."

Of course she wanted Red to let her in…but not for work purposes. He had seen her vulnerable, exposed and scared. He knew everything about her and she knew little of him. She longed to get closer, but Red was a hot flame, and she couldn't get too close or she'd catch on fire for him.

Rather than respond to his big questioning eyes, she scooted out of the booth and set down the two bucks for her coffee on the table. 

"I'll see you later," she said dismissively.

"Yes you will," he replied as she turned toward the door. His words were loaded, rich with meaning, and the implications of the way the syllable slipped from his lips made her heartbeat quicken.


	2. Chapter 2

One day passed. Then two. Then three. Before she knew it, a week had gone by and she had yet to hear from Red.

The distance, the silence, was putting her on edge; which was exactly what Red was aiming for. He could tell that something was off in their dynamic and he wanted her to sweat it out, so that the next time she saw him she would spill.

God, could you even imagine how that conversation would go? "Yeah Red…I've been a wreck because ever since I saw Tom in court he's been haunting my dreams. And when he's not wreaking emotional havoc on my days and nights, I slip into daydreams about fucking you…"

She smiled to herself as she imagined what look would cross Red's features if she were to say those words. Perhaps his lips would purse together tightly to suppress a reaction. Or maybe he would freely let shock dance in his eyes. Would he move toward her, or pull away? 

If there was one thing Liz knew, it's that she couldn't afford to screw up their arrangement. 

The information he provided them proved invaluable. This latest blacklister was no exception. Mr. Machner was cruel, calculating and currently heading a massive human trafficking ring. On the side, he dabbled in smuggling and murder. He was an eccentric millionaire who seldom got his own hands dirty, so this case would be a challenge.

Just as Red had hoped, it was Liz's turn to come to him. 

With fidgety fingers she hit the speed dial. To her surprise, Dembe picked up the phone. 

"Hey Dembe," she said after he answered. "I need to meet with Red, when is he free?" 

"Mr. Reddington is available tomorrow evening at 8pm at his place," he replied.

Damn, she was really hoping for a daytime meeting. The fact that it would be at Red's home made the situation even worse. She wanted a public place.

"Can he meet any earlier than that?"

"No he can't, sorry Ms. Keen. See you tomorrow at 8," he said, followed by a click.

Red certainly had the upper hand, and there was a very strong possibility that she would be fighting back both waking and sleeping dreams until tomorrow.

She grabbed her jacket and headed toward the elevator. The sooner she could get home and go to bed, the better. 

+++

That night, images of Tom's face lingered in Liz's dreams. Like a lion, he approached her, his eyes dark with fury. In an instant, his hands were on Liz's neck and she couldn't breathe. Tears slipped down her face as she flailed her hands about, searching for something to hit him with. 

She grabbed a vase and smashed it over his head, but it wasn't enough. He rebounded quickly, punching her in the cheek before grasping her and throwing her into a wall like a rag doll. 

They ended up on the floor, fighting for their lives. But Tom was stronger, she was injured, and there was no way she would win this fight. With one swift motion, Tom grabbed a shard of glass and slid the cool, jagged object across Liz's throat. 

Hot liquid spilled from the gash as the life drained from her face. 

With a start, Liz awoke from the terrifying dream with a shout. Her body had erupted into a cold sweat and tears ran down her face. She grabbed her throat and swung her legs out to the side of the bed. 

There would be no more sleep tonight.

+++

"Why Lizzie, right on time," Red said as she walked through the double doors that led to his office. He stood from the plush chair that he was sitting in and walked toward her like a hunter.

Instantly, she had a flashback of her dream last night. She could see Tom sauntering towards her with murder in his eyes and fear leapt in her chest. But this wasn't Tom, this was Red. He wouldn't hurt her. Still, the look in his eyes was positively predatory. 

"Red," she said, pulling the folder of Machner out of her bag. 

He eyed her curiously and said with a tinge of disappointment, "straight to work I see?" 

"What else did you expect?" she asked, instantly imagining peeling off his layers of clothing. Fuck. She'd been here less than five minutes and she was already vibrating with lust for him. 

"Oh I don't know…" he drew closer. "I was hoping that you would tell me what is going on with you, and don't give me any of that "I'm fine" bullshit." 

She gulped. "You're not going to let this go are you?" she asked.

"No."

She huffed a laugh, of course he wouldn't let it go.

"You look like you haven't slept in ages and on top of that, you are acting strangely around me." 

Just to established normality, she forced herself to look at him. "Fine, you want to know what's going on? I can't sleep. Ever since I saw Tom in the courtroom…he plagues my dreams. He scares me more than any blacklister ever has, and every night he kills me in my dreams."

"Satisfied?" she spat angrily. It infuriated her that she was constantly vulnerable to Red, but that it was a one way street.

Her anger was dulled though by the look of concern on Red's face. His fists were in a ball by his side. He came a bit closer to her, and although she instinctually wanted to back up, she stood still. 

"I'm sorry Lizzie," he said. "Bringing Tom back was the only way I could think of exonerating you." 

"It's fine," she said, "I'll get over it." 

"If it's any consolation Lizzie, I would never let any harm come to you," his voice dropped an octave and his hand came up to Liz's arm. 

Goosebumps spread across her skin and a flush crept up her neck. She gave it a moment and then she backed away, looking at the folder. "So how are we going to nail this bastard?" she said, opening the file. 

She eyed the pictures before her, startled when Red's hand grasped the folder. He took the object and set it down on a side table. His head was tilted and his eyes scrutinized Liz's face. 

Suddenly it felt as though she couldn't breathe. 

"What are you doing?" she said, a little too breathy. 

"You explained to me why you look so tired Lizzy, but that's not all that is going on with you." 

"Drop it Red." 

"No. I can't drop it Lizzie. I want to know why you shy away from me, why you aren't looking at me, why you are constantly rubbing your scar in my presence." 

"Do I scare you?" he asked, his words laced with fear. 

"No," she shook her head. "You don't scare me." 

"Then what's wrong? What's changed?" 

"Nothing."

A growl escaped his throat, at her obvious lie. A storm brewed beneath his knitted brows. He was getting frustrated. 

The noise that he made went straight to Liz's groin. She could feel her heartbeat between her legs and feel the familiar pull in her belly. 

Once more, Red's expression changed. He observed her reaction to his guttural growl - the way her pupils dilated, the way her body swayed closer to his, the quick rise and fall of her chest - and the pieces fell together.

He came within inches of her and brushed her right hand with his left, bringing his face to her ear. "Tell me Lizzie," he said, his words made of gravel and lust. "Tell me what you want." 

Alarms blared in her head as she felt her resolve cracking. He was intoxicating, and there was nothing she wanted more than to drink him in. 

She moved her head to the right slightly, their faces touching now, and brought her left hand to his arm. She rubbed the soft fabric of his expensive suit and trailed her hand down until it met with his. Craning her head, she whispered in his neck, "I want you." 

Her cool breath floated over the hot skin of Red's neck. His pulse beat steady and fast beneath the spot where Liz's lips hovered. 

She wanted to undo him, but knew that he would be the death of her, even if she succeeded. 

Her lips touched down on his skin and kissed the flesh she found there. He moaned in response, and the vibration of it tingled beneath her lips. She deepened the kiss, biting his skin and then soothing it over with her tongue. He rocked towards her and his hands found her body. They travelled beneath her black blazer and underneath her silk teal blouse. 

When she moved away from his neck and came face to face with him, he kissed her. His lips were surprisingly soft as they molded into hers. His movements were skilled and practiced, yet filled with emotion and vulnerability. When his tongue slid into her mouth she moaned, bringing her hips forward. 

She could feel Red's erection pressing into body, and the realization that this was really happening nearly unwound her. 

Their bodies pressed together in a feverish embrace as hands roamed everywhere. Finally they broke apart, desperate for air. "Fuck Red…" she said in a whimper. His fingers ground into her skin as he struggled to control himself. He kissed her neck as she slipped his jacket off his shoulders and let the fabric fall to the floor. 

A knock at the door broke their trance and startled Lizzie, who shot back a step or two. 

"What is it?" Red said, aggravation clear in his voice. 

Dembe's voice replied through the door, "We have Machner's handler on the phone. It is time to set up the meet."

Red picked up his suit jacket and slung it over the back of a chair. With a sigh he turned to Liz. She nodded in silent understanding. He walked towards the phone and told Dembe to come in. 

Liz ran a hand through her hair, picked up the folder and left the room.

His eyes followed her, lingering on the doorframe long after she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

As Liz walked away from Reddington, she struggled to suppress an internal shake. Her body vibrated with need and her head was spinning as she analyzed everything that just happened. 

How could he be that attuned to her? To know, just by her body language, that she harbored desire for him? The thought was both scary and reassuring. Not even Tom knew her that well. She could put on a front for him…but not Red.

As the cold air of the October night hit her face, she realized how truly vulnerable she felt. But that was their dynamic wasn't it? He knew every facet of her life and personality - and she had no idea about him. If she truly knew him…would she still harbor these feelings? 

She never expected to be the federal agent who fell for a criminal. If that's what she was doing…falling? Or just lusting? She didn't know, and didn't care to analyze it further. 

Liz let herself sink into her car and focus only on driving. She kept her thoughts quiet for fear that they would incur the wrath of reality. The gravity of the situation didn't escape her. 

That night she showered, letting her fingers trail down her torso into the patch of curls between her legs. With a moan she let wet fingers dip inside her heat. She could still smell Red, still feel the warmth of his body, still taste his lips. She imagined that he was here with her now, stroking her body. 

She breathed heavily against the steaming shower wall, her forehead resting on the tile as one hand teased her breast while the other continued to stroke. 

It was so easy to see Red in her mind, to imagine how he could undo her here, in the shower. His soft lips, rough hands, and dominating presence were too much to handle all at once. His guttural growl still echoed in her ears, and it was only a matter of minutes before she came - feeling the familiar internal spasm that released her tension.

With a sigh she banged her forehead gently into the shower wall. "Fuck," she muttered into the mist. She was screwed.

+++

The meet was set up with Machner. In two days, she would see Red at the Post Office and the crew would discuss the Op. 

She both dreaded and anticipated seeing his commanding form emerge in the bullpen. The next two days drudged by slowly and Liz tried her best to bury herself in work. It was easy to go through the motions and get lost in the job. Still, thoughts of him would linger in the back of her mind.

When he finally stepped off the elevator and into the shared space, her heart may have skipped a beat or two. 

He sauntered in with his usual air of silent superiority and headed toward the cluster of desks. 

Red greeted the agents and the group headed into an adjacent meeting room. 

Throughout the gathering, Liz made a conscious effort to look at him every now and again - but not too much. She payed close attention to the details of the meet, took notes and acted like her usual self. 

When the thirty minute meeting dismissed, she expected him to remain and have a conversation with her. When he came to the Post Office, he usually spent the majority of his time talking to Lizzie. But this time, he simply addressed the group. When they adjourned, he stood, put on his fedora and walked from the meeting room with Liz's eyes following him.

He never addressed her privately, and acted no differently than he always had. 

"Red," she heard herself say as she followed him to the elevator. But he didn't stop, so she followed him into the steel box and watched the doors slip shut before speaking. 

But before she got a word in, he extended an index finger and stopped the elevator. She watched as he turned towards her, and heat spread through her body. 

"Lizzie," he said carefully. "Do you have a question about the operation?" 

Her eyebrows knotted in confusion. "No…"

"Then what would you like to discuss?" he said coldly.

"I…just…" she faltered, her mind coming to a halt. She studied his features but found no discernible trace of emotion. He was his usual cool, collected self, acting as though nothing had happened between them. 

"Are you mad at me?" she queried. 

"Of course not," he replied. "But Lizzie…what happened a few days ago…well, it can't happen again." 

Liz's heart sunk to some unfathomable depth and the feeling must have shown on her face. Her usually bright blue eyes were dark and troubled. 

Her glossed red lips parted, but before she had the chance to speak, Red had turned the elevator back on and they moved upwards. 

"That's it. That's all you're going to say?" she asked him. She was still turned towards him but he was facing the doors, waiting expectantly for the doors to open once more.

"Yes," he said without looking at her. 

Tears stung in her eyes as bitterness rose in her chest. Never in her life had she felt so foolish. Did she actually think that she and Red could have any sort of relationship? The notion was absurd, and the reality of Red conveying that truth, hit her hard. 

She couldn't tell what he was feeling, she couldn't reach him, his walls were rebuilt. 

His biggest mistake of the day was turning his head to the right and looking at her one last time before stepping off the elevator and into the parking garage.

Her pain was visible. It shone in the unshed tears that clung to her red eyes. As guarded as she was with others, she wore her emotions in front of Red. And seeing them now…seeing her hurt…was unbearable. 

Walking away from her had to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done. 

Her eyes followed him, watching as his form became smaller, until the elevator doors closed. Back down she went. 

He offered her no explanation. And although all they had shared was one (rather passionate) kiss, she felt a hole ripping open in her chest. She hadn't lost him - but she had. She lost any possibility of engaging him romantically. It felt like a slap in the face, a punch in the gut, a knife in the heart. And in that moment, Elizabeth Keen realized just how badly she longed for his affection.


	4. Chapter 4

In order to bury her feelings for Red, Lizzie dove headfirst into the case. Although it took two weeks and spanned 5,000 miles, they had finally brought Machner's human trafficking empire to it's knees. Red put a bullet in the man's brain before they could detain him, but he didn't have a choice. It was self defense.

Such an encounter with Machner would have shaken Liz, but it appeared to have no effect on Red, who floated through daily life with the same self-assurance and confidence as always. 

In the final leg of the investigation they had ended up in Dublin. 

The image of Red smattered with Machner's blood was engrained in Liz's mind. The next day he offered her a seat on his private jet, but she politely refused.

In the midst of the investigation they had resumed their typical relationship. And while, on the surface, it appeared unchanged…there was a heaviness that Lizzie carried with her. The mirth & jest, the ebb and flow of their banter had evaporated. It had been replaced by an intense work-centric seriousness. 

Sure, he smiled at her, made a joke every now and then, he tried to engage her in their usual back-and-forth, but he failed. 

When she had opted to fly coach all the way back to the states, he realized just serious the situation had become.

Usually she slept like a baby on long-distance flights, but her mind just wouldn't shut off for this one. By the time she stepped off the eight hour flight, she looked like hell. 

With a brisk walk she traversed the airport, picked up her luggage and hailed a cab. 

When she got through the door of her place, she plopped the luggage on the floor and made a B-line for the bedroom.

Unfortunately, she dreamt once more of Red. 

In her dream, his eyes watched her. They were large, knowing, piercing orbs that followed her every move. His eyes saw through her, knew what she was feeling, thinking, doing. It created both a reassuring and frightening feeling in her that lingered even into her waking hours. 

After two more days of scarcely seeing him, she decided that she had to talk to him. Really talk. If she didn't, she worried that her thoughts might drive her sanity into oblivion.

It was a cold, dark evening when she knocked on his door. She hadn't called first, and although she mustered up the bravery to arrive at his door, she wouldn't be disappointed if he wasn't home.

Of course he was.

Dembe opened the mahogany gateway and led her into the house. 

"Lizzie!" he said with usual enthusiasm. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he smiled. But she didn't smile back.

She just stood, barely into the room, awkwardly holding a bottle of wine at her side. "I uh…thought we could share a drink," she said, moving forward.

Caution bubbled beneath his features, but he quickly reigned in his expression.

As she moved towards him, she paused at the mini bar and pulled out two wine glasses. 

"What are we celebrating?" he asked. 

"Getting Machner off the…"

"Planet?" Red laughed. 

He was right, she couldn't say "streets," because he was three feet under.

"Right," she answered, swallowing.

She walked over towards where he sat. "I do wish you wouldn't take such satisfaction in killing someone," she said candidly.

His expression turned and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"The only satisfaction I experience lies in the fact that thousands of trafficked victims are now free."

"Good," she answered, with a sigh of relief. She set the glasses down and pulled a bottle opener out of her coat pocket, before discarding the coat on the back of an adjacent chair. 

His eyes floated over the bottle as she poured the liquid into the glasses. 

"What vino shall we be enjoying this evening?" he asked, a bit less on edge. 

She finished pouring and set the bottle down, twisting it until it's label faced Red. 

"Don't you recognize it?" she asked. "It's the bottle you gave me on my birthday. Unfortunately it's not the one that my father and I… it's the other one. The back up bottle." 

"But I told you to share it with someone special," he said.

"And I am," she sat, bringing the glass up to her lips. "Mmm," a hum purred from her throat when she took a sip. "Much better than the homegrown bottle," she chuckled, forgetting the seriousness of the situation for a moment.

But Red quickly brought reality back. He reached for the glass and took a drink before asking, "why are you here Lizzie?" 

He looked at her with the same expression that clung to her dreams. 

Her fingers fidgeted with the glass. A long paused passed between them.

"I'm here because…I…" she looked up at him then, losing her train of thought - if she had one to begin with. 

Her eyes were filled with questions and sadness. Red had put that expression on her face, and it pained him immensely. 

"I want to know why you backed away from me. Why we can't…"

Red averted his gaze, looking into his glass for the answers he didn't have. 

"Lizzie, I cannot become that emotionally involved with you." 

"Bullshit," she shot. "You're already emotionally involved with me. Hell, you know me better than I know myself Red. And whether you admit it or not, you care."

"And I shouldn't," he replied.

She set the glass down with a clunk, rose from the chair adjacent to Red's couch and sat down next to him. He didn't flinch or scoot away. Never would he show weakness.

"But you do, you care about me Red. I think you might even love me."

His gaze, filled with fire, burned at her. 

"That's quite an assumption Agent Keen," he said, trying to distance himself from her verbally.

"It's not an assumption Red. There was a moment when we kissed…a moment where you allowed yourself to express what you felt. But here you are now, a coward, running away from what you feel."

"I can't afford to feel," he said, bitter sadness flooding into his tone.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you've got serious skeletons in your closet Red. I'm sure that you've been hurt before - badly. And maybe you can't allow yourself to feel, that's fine. But don't sit here and lie to me. Don't tell me you don't feel anything for me, don't lie to me," she said angrily. 

Long withheld tears freed themselves from the confines of her restraint and slipped down her cheeks.

"You see emotion as vulnerability," Liz said as the liquid trailed down her face. "And you're right, it is. But what you fail to realize Red is that you're already compromised." 

"Really?" he spat. "You don't think I know that already? It scares me to death how vulnerable you make me. And it makes me wonder just how much more vulnerable I'd be if I allowed myself the luxury of loving you. I would crawl through hell for you Lizzie, but I can't…"

"Yes you can," she voice was filled with hope, her face careened closer to his. 

"You're all I have Red," she said, her forehead pressed to his. 

His eyes snapped shut, unable to deal with the current circumstance. 

"And as terrifying a realization it was, I came to understand that I don't need anything else." 

"I can't do this Lizzie," he whispered, putting his hands on her arms.

"You already did it." 

His eyes opened. 

The white of his eyes were red, and pools of liquid gathered beneath the ocean blue irises. He hated it, he hated this vulnerability. He hated how pliable she made him. But beneath the contempt he held for relationships was a bright and beautiful possibility of something wonderful. 

"I don't deserve happiness Lizzie," was the next thought he uttered. 

"I beg to differ," she responded, the words ghosting over his lips.

"If you knew everything, you'd hate me, as you should." 

"I don't need to know everything right now," she said in a desperate attempt. 

"We're going to go down in flames," his head tilted slightly.

"We already have," she closed the distance between them. 

He tasted of wine and dark chocolate. His hands gripped her, grounding her, holding her to reality even when she wasn't sure what reality was. 

Had he used her to get the fulcrum? Probably. But he had also watched over her, protected her, nearly sacrificed himself for her, cared for her, and knew every facet of her. 

His lips were a perfect fit against hers. Every movement was calculated, passionate, and intoxicating. 

Finally, when neither could breathe, they broke apart for only a moment.

"I'm a criminal," he growled. 

"I know," she kissed him.

He broke away. "I've watched you grow up. I'm old enough to be your father."

"But you're not," she brought her lips back to his. 

"I will never deserve this," he said in a broken confession as she kissed his jawline and travelled down his neck.


	5. Chapter 5

Even as he was giving in to her, Lizzie could still sense that Red was guarded. It was as if, at any moment she protested, he would agree and vanish into oblivion. 

But she held him fast, with fingers digging into the fabric of his suit. Her lips slid over his, and with each fluid movement, she would become more and more a part of him. 

She could still feel him thinking, hear the gears turning in his head, even as he held her and returned her affections. 

"Red," she paused, their faces touching one another, "please…stop thinking and start showing me how you feel."

He nodded, stood, and outstretched his hand. His pupils were dark saucers that looked at her hungrily. She slipped her soft cold hand into his large warm one, followed him out the door, down the hall, to his room. 

The expansive space was warm yet masculine. Sleek, dark wood furniture stretched out in the dimly lit room. Moonlight peeking through the windows cast roaming shadows on the floor. They stepped inside, she faced him, and he the door. Red shut it quietly, slipping his arms around her to do so. 

He had to take this slow and savor every moment, because an opportunity such as this may never arise again. Not when she realizes who he is - what role he truly plays in her life.

His arms snake around her, hands desperately grasping flesh through fabric. She's warm and pliable, melting into his body, responding to his every move and supplying groans of appreciation. 

She reaches up and pulls her blouse over her head in one swift movement. Soon, her work pants accompany it on the floor. Kicking her heels off, she suddenly seems smaller and move vulnerable. Her hair is ruffled out of place as he runs his hands through it. 

Ever the paradox, she is both soft and strong, brave but exposed, in charge yet longing for a battle of wills. 

She takes pleasure in shedding him of his many layers of armor. First the jacket, then the vest, then the tie, and by the time she's unbuttoning his dress shirt, they're on the bed. She hovers over him as she finishes slipping the buttons free and guiding the shirt off his shoulders. 

He flips them, kissing the skin of her neck that beats quickly with her pulse. He travels down her slender neck, unfastens her black lace bra, massaging her breasts. He kisses each pink peak, swirling his tongue around the buds buzzing with electricity and she moans. He continues to explore down her body, hooking fingers into her underwear as he kisses her belly.

Red slips off the wet underwear and massages her thighs as he guides her legs apart. 

"Fuck Red…" she says, as he hovers over her most sensitive spot, his breath hot on her exposed flesh. With a groan he looks up at her, stark naked and completely undone on his bed. Her hair flows around her head and her fingers are twisted into knots in anticipation. 

He smiles at her and maintains eye contact as he licks her center. Watching him go down on her is enough to send Liz straight over the edge. She searches for restraint, but can't find it as he gently kisses and sucks all the right places. Just when her nerves are on fire, he slips a finger into her heat. 

Her hips roll, seeking more friction and it's not long before he adds another, and another. Red continues to swirl patterns over her clit and folds as he curls the fingers and her vision begins to blur. 

Head thrown back, panting for breath, she says his name as she comes. Her walls spasm around Red's fingers and he fights the urge to stroke himself, knowing that if he does, he's done.

Once she recovers, he climbs back onto the bed and she divests him of his belt, pants and boxer shorts. 

A very sizable erection greets her wandering hands, and she can taste herself on his lips. Precum trickles out of his cock and lands on her belly. With two fingers she swipes it up, and uses it to massage Red. Between her hand and her mouth, he's already experiencing nirvana. 

Red's arms shake with the effort to control himself, so she flips them. 

In an instant, she's at his waist, taking his erection in her hand and admiring it, before jutting out her tongue and licking the head. "I think this is the most beautiful shade of red I've ever seen," she said, taking him in her mouth.

A groan slips out through Red's gritted teeth. "Lizzie…" he says breathlessly.

Her hand and mouth work in tandem and she only sucks him for a minute before he is pulling at her with a plea.

"Please Lizzie…I need you…I need to be inside of you."

She climbed back up his body with a smile. "I love seeing you come apart," she whispered into his ear before positioning herself over him. 

She took him in her hand and lowered herself onto him. With all of his might, Red resisted the urge to buck upwards, to flip them over and fuck her senseless. Instead, they set a steady, painfully frustrating and satisfying pace. 

It was only when Red began to brush her clit with his fingers that she whined for a harder, faster pace. 

After driving her completely insane, he finally turned them over and thrust into her, coming nearly all the way out slowly before driving back in. 

"Lizzie…" he purred into her ear. 

That was it. 

Again, her body tightened. His fingers and thrusts were perfectly timed and topped off with maddening kisses that made her mind go black. "Red…" she moaned as she came, clawing at the back of his neck and shoulder blade. 

She held on for dear life, and so did he. But as soon as she said his name, he erupted inside of her. 

This wasn't just sex. This was something far more, something dangerous and explosive. Their bodies were matches, and after this, they'd have no choice but to burn into oblivion together. 

As they lay glued together, breathing heavily, he continued to trail kisses across her neck. Slipping out of her, he struggled to come back to reality. So instead, he settled on remaining in this state of pure bliss - consequences be damned.


End file.
